


a softer sky

by mearcats



Series: i wished on the moon for you [2]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: American History, F/M, Friendship, Grief, Horseback Riding, Hugs, Pining, UST, and some Austenian reactions to hand touching and the like, with guest appearances by Union Army officers and soldiers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 19:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14900663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mearcats/pseuds/mearcats
Summary: Their top priority is helping Harriet Tubman save the country, but it's probably not a bad idea to vent and unburden herself, Lucy knows. Fortunately, Flynn is there for her, something she's starting to count on.





	a softer sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweetleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetleaf/gifts).



> This is for Sophie, who told me she wanted to know what happened on the horseback riding garbage date in 2.09 and needed to see Garcy hug.

“I’ve got it, Wyatt,” Lucy says, letting her impatience color her tone. Rufus straightens the horse’s bridle as Harriet Tubman—Harriet Tubman!—spoke. Lucy responds at the appropriate moments and must say the right thing, even as she’s awash in her pain, anger, and irritation.

 

Lucy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “We’ll come back with reinforcements.”

 

“Don’t start the party without us,” Flynn adds with a smirk before turning and starting on the way. As irritated and hurt as she feels from her encounter with Wyatt and everything going on with him, she has to bite back a smile at Flynn’s insouciance.

 

He’s an ass sometimes, but he _does_ make her smile, and that’s something. She turns her horse to follow Flynn’s, and they gallop off.

 

They ride in silence for the first few miles.

 

Lucy finally starts to relax—as much as she possibly can, given that the fate of the Union and therefore the nation’s history is resting on their shoulders—after she’s sure they’re miles away from the others.

 

She looks over at Flynn. In spite of their brisk pace, he looks at ease, comfortable. It’s not fair, she thinks, that he can be so ruthlessly smart and so gracefully athletic (and attractive, a distinctly unhelpful voice pipes up).

 

He’s keeping apace with her, holding back to stay in line with her. They can’t wear out their horses too much either, she knows, but she appreciates it nonetheless.

 

He turns his head to look at her, catching her gaze on him. “Everything all right, Lucy?”

 

“Fine,” she says automatically.

 

He raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

 

She sighs. It’s _Flynn_. She obviously isn't fine, and he’s been beyond supportive since joining them in the bunker. He’s not going to judge her if she has moments of weakness, if she isn’t okay.

 

And she’s not, not right now. She hasn’t been for weeks, but everything is so raw right now. “Jessica is pregnant.”

 

He draws his horse to a stop, clearly surprised. “Oh.” His face is blank, giving her no clue what he’s thinking.

 

But she can imagine. “Part of me is happy for hi—for them, but it’s not fair. It’s not. I know it’s not very charitable of me, but it’s just not. Not only does he get his wife back, he gets _that_ , a future.”

 

They’re continuing onward, a little slower, but they’re not far from Port Royal and have to tread more carefully now.

 

“The universe does seem to have blessed him,” Flynn says, an edge of bitterness in his tone. “If only it would show you and me the same regard.”

 

He pauses before telling her, voice more even now, “I’m sorry. It can’t be easy for you, with Wyatt.”

 

She huffs in agreement. “It’s not! He has this wonderful thing, all this joy in his life. That’s hard enough to deal with, but the mission is what matters. I know that.” She takes a deep breath. “It’s just—it’s like I’m expected to hide my feelings for him and about this whole situation, and then he gets to act pissy when I spend time with you.”  

 

Lucy is quiet for a few minutes then, lost in her thoughts, in her feelings. Finally, she looks at Flynn. He’s staring back at her, lips curved in a sad, gentle smile. _Don’t look at his lips_ , she warns herself sternly. Instead, she meets his eyes, to find them soft and full of understanding.

 

It’s really not any better than his lips, and something flutters in her chest.

 

“I’m sorry,” she finally says, “I know this can’t be easy for you either, without me coming and complaining about—”

 

He cuts her off, “Lucy. Stop. You don’t need to apologize for anything.” Flynn isn’t looking at her anymore, biting his damned, insufferable lip. “No, it’s not easy for me, when he’s been given this gift. But I—we, we’re allowed to have those feelings. And I’m happy for you to talk to me about them.”

 

She’s grateful, if unsure how to respond.

 

Thankfully, he makes it easier on her. “Besides, Wyatt just isn’t as possessive of me for some reason. I’m a little hurt, to be honest.”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” she snorts, but it’s said with fondness and a smile.

 

A blush steals its way over his face, and he looks pleased as punch at having made her feel better.

 

Lucy faces the road ahead, heart lighter now than it’s been in days.

 

&&&

 

There’s a flurry of activity as they enter the camp. There’s yelling, questioning, and a few tense moments before they’re allowed to speak to Colonel Montgomery.

 

Montgomery looks at them with suspicion and expectation. They have to offer him something get him on board with going back to help Harriet Tubman and all the innocent people whose lives will be nothing but misery if they don’t fix this.

 

She starts with her name. “I’m Lucy Preston, and I’m here on behalf of Colonel Shaw. We both are,” she adds, gesturing to Flynn.

 

Flynn inclines his head in acknowledgment, his shoulders slumped as he does his best to fit inside the tent. “We are. We’re spies.”

 

If the situation weren’t so serious, Lucy would be inclined to laugh, because Civil War era tents just aren’t made for 6’4” commandos.

 

Colonel Montgomery doesn’t find anything particularly funny, though. The next minutes are strained, and all three of them are on edge, though Lucy knows Flynn will have her back if they need an exit strategy.

 

Fortunately, that’s not necessary. They—Lucy, really, though Flynn seems very proud of her powers of persuasion—manage to convince Montgomery of the need to help Harriet Tubman and save the Union.

 

“Mr. Preston, Mrs. Preston, I’ve had one of my men see to your horses, so we’ll be ready to ride shortly now,” the colonel tells them.

 

Lucy and Flynn exchange startled looks, and her lip quivers as she holds back a laugh. He has to duck his head to hide his mirth.

 

They make their way to the horses, nodding their thanks to the man who brings them bread and coffee. Now that they have a course of action, the atmosphere of the camp seems more jovial. There’s hope now, and they have a mission.

 

Flynn fiddles with her horse’s saddle, crooning gently to the mare in Croatian as he checks that it’s secure. When he’s done he straightens, only to find her standing close. He is surprised, but doesn’t seem displeased at her proximity.

 

“Flynn...thank you. For everything today,” she whispers, in part not wanting to be overheard by curious eavesdroppers. The larger part of her knows that’s an excuse, that thanking him means acknowledging how much her life has changed in just a few months. It’s not exactly comfortable or expected to realize that this giant of a man—a terrorist in the eyes of most, and terrifying and ruthless by almost any measure—is now her best friend. She’s known for a while he’s easier to talk to than anyone else in her life, but this? It’s a lot to process.

 

He’s just...he’s always there for her. For _her_.  

 

He doesn’t seem to know what to do or how to respond, so Lucy follows her instincts before her courage flags.

 

She steps into his space, and before she can second-guess herself, she throws her arms around his waist. He stiffens for a moment and she feels the breath he draws in even through their many, many layers of clothes. Finally, he relaxes, pulling her into his arms. His arms encircle her and he rests his chin atop her head.

 

“Anytime,” he whispers.

 

Somehow, she knows he’s talking about more than exchanging confidences. It feels...good. It is, she thinks, much like a fine whiskey. She feels safe in the circle of his arms. His strength is comfortable and comforting, and yet there’s an undercurrent of electricity that thrills her.

 

They stand there long enough that she can feel eyes on them, but she can’t bring herself to care. For one thing, they’re never going to see any of these people again. And for another, she doesn’t sense any judgment—it’s wartime, and there isn’t a soul around who wouldn’t turn a blind eye to propriety if it meant they could embrace their sweethearts or loved ones again.

 

That line of thought is dangerous though, and she needs to distance herself from it, from Flynn.

 

So, reluctantly, she finally steps back.

 

Flynn looks gobsmacked, but gives her her space. He shakes his head as if to clear a fog, then lowers so he’s nearly doubled over. Linking his fingers, he wordlessly offers her his help getting onto her mount.

 

Lucy accepts his assistance with a nod and swings onto the horse. She watches out of the corner of her eye as he mounts up, and then they’re off, Montgomery’s 2nd South Carolina behind them.

 

They have history to make.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, comment! Or flail with me on tumblr!


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